


Dream V.S an Army of Moths ft. Tommy's Depression Arc

by Misticloyal



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Axphyrix is actually my own name but if you know me- no you don't, Clem becomes Tommy's service animal/ emotional support animal, Clementine is a moth, Dissassociating, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Fuck DreamSMP!Dream, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I wanted to get to 10k so I might add later or smth but probably not, Implied/Referenced Suicide, MOTHINNIT, O shit there's a lot um-, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sorta derealisation? Eh maybe, Tommy develops a stutter after a panic attack, Tommy doesn't die dw, Tommy is subconsciously obsessed with moths, Tommy struggles with disassociation but that's also me projecting, We pretend that Tommy does not have a grudge against Techno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:35:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misticloyal/pseuds/Misticloyal
Summary: Tommy is in exile and Dream is being a fucking bitch. Clem comes in and saves the day, and then big brother Technoblade is in shock and wants to murder green bitch after Tommy has an episode.(Aka, me making up a 7k word fic on a whim because I'm obsessed with Mothinnit-)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 452





	Dream V.S an Army of Moths ft. Tommy's Depression Arc

Tommy winced and pulled the covers of his thin bedsheet over his head. His headache wasn’t going away, and Dream was on his way to visit him. A dim part of him wanted to celebrate. Human interaction! That was good! He _wanted_ that. He shook his head trying to clear up the conflicting thoughts. It was too early for this, and he still needed to conjure the strength to get out of bed.

Spoiler: by the time Dream had arrived, Tommy had still not gotten out of bed. He just felt frozen, staring at the dirt floor of Dnret, and just… not being there. Occasionally his finger twitched, but that was the only other sign of life. Otherwise, Dream might’ve actually thought he was dead.

“Hey, Tommy!” He called out as he parted the cloth separating the inside from the rest of the cold world. The other faintly noticed white outside. Had it snowed recently? No, he would’ve noticed, surely? Maybe not. Maybe he was just being weird again.

He tried to stir enough motivation to get a greeting out of him, but for some reason he couldn’t open his mouth. Panicking, he tried to blink. Nothing. What the fuck, it was like he wasn’t in his own body anymore. Waves of confusion washed over him, but they were quickly overcome by the main one: dread. Dream was here. Dream was in front of his body, and was talking to him, trying to shake him awake. What would he do if he didn’t wake up? What would he do if he-

In an act of pure desperation, Tommy forces himself to speak. Luckily, it worked, and he listened to his voice with pride. The pride vanished just as quickly when a hoarse scream rang out from him. He felt thrust back into his own body, and the screaming that he was merely listening to a few seconds ago, was now coming from himself. He could feel his vocal cords vibrating from the pitch of the sound, and he promptly realized he was still at it. He closed his mouth.

Hesitantly, he threw a scared look at Dream. The other looked deep in thought but managed to snap right out of it when Tommy stopped screaming.

“Don’t do that again,” He said.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make sure I won’t,” Tommy replied.

\--

The disassociating became a problem that Tommy fended off with a burning passion. He was already so tired, almost unable to move out of his bed everyday just because of the sheer lack of any motivation. But dealing with the episodes of completely exiting who he was and questioning if everything happening was even real only _added_ to the-mile-high pile of problems he had. Especially when Dream was around.

The urge got stronger when he visited, and most of the time, the mere effort to stay grounded brought tears to his eyes. Whether they were because how hard he was trying or frustration he didn’t know. It didn’t matter, the only important thing was that Dream was still visiting. Still coming over to see him and his progress through his island. And that was important.

Yeah. That was good. Dream was good.

\--

Moths always had an unusual tendency to cling to Tommy. Whether that was during the day or night, it didn’t matter. They would always come out of their hiding places and sit and/or fly close to him. Tubbo was the only one that knew why. Tubbo wasn’t there anymore.

Tommy’s wings fluttered under Wilbur’s coat at the thought of the other. Tommy was a hybrid. A moth hybrid. His antennae were hidden in his hair, and his wings could easily pass off as an article of clothing since they usually pointed down and stayed flat on his back.

Tubbo had complimented them before. Tommy was indifferent about how he felt about them. The red and white twisting around each other, forming delicate patterns was fairly overlooked because the rest of his wings was a inky black, a complete change from the designs on them. White fur rested under them and it kept Tommy warm during the winter.

He hasn’t felt warm in a while. It was just so cold, and he was tired.

Some days when he doesn’t sleep at all, he stays up and worries about Dream thinking that his wings and antennae were a secret kept from him. Sometimes he cries because he thinks of Dream hacking off his wings and chastising him while he’s bleeding because he needed to know everything. Those nights were not very fun. The moths that flock over to him during those episodes however, help him out. They swarm around his bed, all sitting attentively as he rambles out apologies and begs for forgiveness to the imaginary Dream standing behind him with an axe ready in his hand.

He’s grown attached to one in particular. One had similar wing patterns to himself, and he thinks that it knows that because it was the one that always approached him during his breakdowns. Flying up to his nose and perching there nuzzling the corner of his eye with it’s fluffy face. It helped. Feeling a weight on his face but light enough to not be there was strangely comforting because it reminded Tommy that a fragile being is there in front of him. It was so brave to approach him, who’s body moved in sharp erratic motions.

Most moths leave around daytime, sensing a new presence approach their friend (Dream. It’s Dream- Dream’s _here_ -). The red and white moth stayed with him. They perched themselves on Tommy’s shoulder on special occasions, but most of the time they burrowed themselves in Tommy’s hair. For as unkept as it is (Tommy can’t motivate himself to go into the ocean without wanting to sink to the bottom until he can’t breathe.) it’s still soft and thick. He’s named them Clementine and didn’t give them a gender. Most of the moths he knew didn’t like to associate with constructs made by humans anyway.

Clem was an interesting moth. Tommy felt them curling around his antennae when Dream yells at him and feels them rub their wings together to give Tommy vibrations to focus on when he feels the urge to disassociate. (When he does, the humming sound they make helps bring him back.) He develops a sense of hope for a while. Looking forward to having contact with something living and breathing that he couldn’t mess up around.

The swarm of moths that visited him during the night were as constant as Clem’s presence around him every day too. He used to apologize to them, for taking away their own time and being a bother. But as much as he did, the moths would not answer. All the different patterns that sat in his lap, on his shoulders, next to him, and in his hair did not say a word because they were, or course, simple moths. They did not have a busy schedule like humans did. Did not have anywhere else to be with other than Tommy. And Tommy could appreciate that.

\--

Tommy liked to think that he could fly around Dream. That he could spread his leathery like wings and flutter them to take off. He could fly away and never come back. Dream wouldn’t know where he’d gone and would never follow either. But the flaw with this is that Tommy is very much like a moth, and Dream was his light. His irresistible urge to please and be around. When Clem nudges him and moves around in his hair to be more comfortable, Tommy has a clearer head. He reaches up a finger to carefully pet them and feels like he’s soaring even though he’s not.

Clem is the solution to Dream’s poison. And slowly, he gets better. He feels more and fears less. He builds his own little storage under his house in Logsteadshire and adds to it slowly. He also makes a treehouse a good distance away from everything. It’s a house for the moths that visit him.

He makes paint with Dream when he visits and when the other asks what it’s for, he excitedly explains how he wants to paint a table to set up at the place where he had his failed beach party. Dream had shot him a questioning look and asked,

“Why do you want to add to that place, no one showed up remember?”. Tommy didn’t mind anymore. He knew that Dream didn’t mean to bring up the hurtful event (‘He did, he did it on purpose’ he thought in his head when Clem shifted to press their antennae against his.) so he just nodded and gestured with wide arms.

“Yeah, but you know what? When I get paint who’s going to have a pretty table? Not them! I’m going to have the prettiest table on the whole server, and they won’t even know it!” He pretends he doesn’t notice Dream’s eye twitch at the positivity radiating off him. He pretends he doesn’t notice Dream’s hand flexing on the handle of his axe in what he _doesn’t_ assume is pure anger at his plan failing. If Tommy was good at one thing, it was acting. And slowly, he puts a plan together.

\--

He practices beforehand, wanting the treehouse to look perfect for his friends. He sketches every single one of their wing designs in a book he crafted a while ago. (He doesn’t think about the fact that he was planning on writing his goodbye’s in it when he made it.) When he’s finished sketching out their designs he grins happily and for the first time he truly feels proud of himself for something.

They finish the paint eventually and Tommy gets to work, everyday spending time at his treehouse when Dream’s not there. He makes a paintbrush using fur he’s collected from the fur rug in Logsteadshire and quietly lets his hand guide him. Every once in a while, he’s glance back at his book, and think about how to implement the next pattern onto the square walls blending in with the tree.

As much as he likes to work on his treehouse, he knows he can’t go too long telling Dream that even though he has paint he doesn’t know how to design the table. So, after about a week of stalling (He’s finished half of the house.) he implements his next plan of action.

When Dream arrives that day, he’s curled up sobbing into his knees on the floor of Logsteadshire. When Dream rushes up to him and offers his fake sickly-sweet comfort, asking “What’s wrong Tommy?” he chokes out one of the biggest lies he’s ever told directly to Dream’s face.

“I threw the paint into the water,” The look on Dream’s face contorts to confusion, then anger and Tommy knows what’s coming and he knows that the next part isn’t as much acting as it is opening the cork to frustrations he bottled up.

“I didn’t mean to, but I was really angry at myself because- because I made the paint with you and I know you have other things to do. So, I was crying really hard, and I was thinking about how sorry I am for wasting your time with something so dumb, and I just threw them without thinking and-“ He’s interrupted by a wet sob that he’s pushed back so he could let the words tumble out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Dream I know I messed up- I’m sorry, so sorry-” He feels a hand in his hair and he silently thanks the gods that Clem was sitting on the front of his shirt today, head resting on his shoulder and feet clinging to the fabric under Wilbur’s coat. (It was fairly cold out that day so he guesses they wanted to be warm.)

Dream sighs and Tommy can hear the gears turning in his head to decide what to do about the problem.

“Well Tommy, I can’t say I’m not disappointed really, I’m your friend you shouldn’t be worrying about wasting my time,” the hand carding through his hair tightens for a second and he hears Dream taking another deep breath.

“I’m not going to punish you for losing them, okay? I’m just not helping you make a second batch, if I’m being honest, I don’t think you should paint the table to begin with, considering you didn’t know what to do for a whole week with them,” Tommy nods weakly, head buried in his knees and leans into Dream’s touch. He was healing. Not cured.

For a moment he wishes he could tell Dream that he was lying and tell him about the moths that made him think differently than what Dream wanted, and that they made him feel good about things. But he disregards the thought immediately because he’s scared that if he does, he’ll kill all them. He knows that if Clem wasn’t there pressing their antennae to his neck and fluttering their wings slightly to let him focus on something that wasn’t succumbing to Dream’s ideology he’d be long gone by now.

So, he whispers “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, I know you were kinda against the idea at the beginning, I should’ve listened to you Dream, I’m sorry,”

It scared Tommy how much most of him agreed with that statement.

\--

He finished the treehouse three days before Dream found his basement. The final stoke of paint that he scraped out from the utter bottom of the bucket it was made in was done when the sun was just starting to set. He trudged back to Dnret where the flock of moths that stayed with him was starting to gather. He starts to think that more of them came as time passed. He pokes his wings through the holes he cut in his shirt and took of Wilbur’s coat. It wasn’t too cold; from the weather he thinks its spring anyway.

“Hi,” He whispers to them. He still isn’t used to talking much. Dream didn’t like it when he did that, and he’s only recently been getting used to disobeying Dream without getting in trouble. The moths didn’t mind. At the sound of his voice, they all spread their wings and fluttered them lightly. A happy greeting. Tommy laughs quietly and lets the smallest of smiles crawl onto his face. The feeling of multiple souls being _happy_ to see him, was overwhelmingly nice.

“Yeah, yeah you clingy mother fuckers, get over here. I got you guys a present,” He lights a lantern to further persuade the crowd. Almost instantly, they zoom into the air, hovering around Tommy and the warm, orange light. He feels Clem climb out of the mess that is his hair and pat their way to resting on his cheek. He mumbles them a good morning (They were sleeping earlier.) and continues to lead the way to the tree house.

When he got there, he spotted the cloud of moths of all different shapes and sizes hover around it which is what he hopes is a positive reaction. Then, he feels a wave of happiness and content slam into him like a wall. It was so intense it brought tears to his eyes.

Antennae were sensitive, everyone who knew anything about moth hybrids knew that. So, when almost 200 unique moths express their gratitude to him all at once, it’s overstimulating.

“You- you guys like it? I- I spent a lot of time in it so you guys don’t have to be cramped in my tent or anything” He laughs through his tears as they collectively swarmed his face and arms.

“Yeah, your welcome. C’mon lemme give you guys a tour,” And he leads them through the door, ducking under the sign that says, “THE MOTH NEST” and under it: “NO BITCHES ALLOWED, FUCK YOU!” written in surprisingly neat calligraphy. Did Tommy spend a whole week learning how to do calligraphy? Yes. Did he succeed? Yes.

He breathes in deeply and revels in the multiple spikes of amazement and gratitude that he can feel from each moth. God, it was worth it. It was worth submitting himself to Dreams wrath just for a millisecond to feel this. His own wings spread at the positive energy and he was tempted to take off right then and there. To fly off to who knows where and only return to the treehouse. He didn’t do that. Instead, he gleefully enjoyed the three beanbags he shoved in the corner and the chests filled with things he thought were entertaining.

He ignored the moths asking what the hidden trapdoor in the middle of the treehouse was for and why it lead into the tree itself. It wasn’t going to be used, ever. But just to be sure, he created a hiding place as he did with every building he’s ever made.

He returned to his tent before every sunrise.

\--

So, it turns out that maybe storing all of your most precious belongings right under your abuser’s nose might not exactly be the best idea.

Tommy sobbed out trembling apologies as Dream all but threw him to the ground after detonating Dnret.

  
“Dream! Dream please it’s the only home I have- please, please don’t- Dream I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-” He rambled until his lungs didn’t have air in them anymore and the urge to disassociate mid plead was tempting. Clem was seething and he could feel them. They were trying their best to smother his antennae with comfort but the sheer terror that ripped through his body when Dream opened his mouth was too much to focus on.

“You had ONE JOB Tommy! One SINGULAR job, and that was to be _open_ with me. You kept secrets from your best friend, how COULD you? I saw those swords Tommy! When?! When were you going to tell me you were planning on killing me, huh? I bet you were waiting for the moment we stepped into the Nether. Couldn’t kill yourself so you plan to kill your friend instead,” He scoffed, hand flexing on the handle of his axe so hard tommy thought it should shatter.

  
“Dream- Dream I d-didn’t want to do that! I sw-swear I’m so sorry, I just- I just thought maybe I could have something to myself- Please don’t hit me- I’m sorry I’m sorry, please don’t take everything away I’m so sorry-” he hiccupped helplessly, cowering in front of the seemingly looming figure over him. He felt a hand plant firmly on his shoulder and Tommy almost passed out from fear, ramblings getting even faster.

“Tommy, you did something bad, and that deserves punishment okay? Just be glad I’m still coming back to visit you, a lot of people would even want to be _around_ you if they saw what you did,” And the sickly-sweet tone was back, reflecting itself in the tightness of Dream’s grip on his shoulder. Tommy desperately raised his head to beg and plead for Dream to not do anything to him but any words that weren’t apologies simply refused to come out of his throat.

Especially when the sound of Dreams hand meeting his cheek echoed around the blown-up terrain. Followed by the smack, was the sound of Tommy screaming in pain. He scrambled away holding his cheek, tears dripping down his face so fast he couldn’t properly see.

Clem had had enough of this it seemed. Sitting in Tommy’s hair, comforting him wasn’t enough so, the only other option was to deal with the source of the problem. They spread their wings, fluttering in front of Tommy’s face, small black eyes taking in the broken boy in front of them. Yeah, this was just not going to work. Quickly, they landed on Tommy’s shoulder and flickered their wings so quickly a high-pitched hum rang through the clearing.

No one touched their guardian.

Point proven when a hoard of moths came tumbling from the forest. Tommy’s eyes widened at the sudden movement and Dream who was still walking towards him, explaining why Tommy deserved to have a suitable punishment, was definitely not aware of the mass surging up behind him. Tommy flinched back when the taller raised his hand, a warning sign for another hit, and his head shot up when he heard a yelp of confusion.

Th swarm of moths had surrounded him, clouding his vison. A tug on his conscious told him Clem was guiding him to the treehouse to hide. They were hovering next to his head, and with a trembling hand he reached out, willing the connection between them to be stronger. He needed to be 100% sure about leaving Dream.

Clem landed on his finger, antennae flicking to touch higher up his hand and a jolt of reasoning flooded through him. Hiding in the treehouse meant spending time with all of his friends. No more worrying about upsetting them, no more crying because of no company, (no more thinking about how appealing the lava bubbling in the nether was-), and a hell of a lot more flying free on the windy days.

A curse from Dream snapped his attention back to the present where the other had drawn his sword and was wildly swiping at the moths still crowding him. Deliriously, he wondered how sardonic it was that he could name at least half of the swarm based on the patterns of wings he sees flashing by.

“Thank you,” He whispers to them, and then turns on his heel and runs as fast as he can, wings bursting from his shirt. Wilbur’s coat was already at the treehouse from the last night he was there. A minor of himself cheered at the thought of spending every day in the place he worked so hard to create. For the present time however, the worry for the rest of the moths he left behind, and the absolute fear of Dream hurting him was too overwhelming for him. He flew blindly into the thick forest, navigating his way expertly by recognizing his way, and receiving pointers from Clem.

Finally seeing the mix of some bright, some dull colors, he let a sob of relief rip through his throat and dove straight in without any hesitation. He picked Clem from his shoulder and after shakily thanking them, he told them to find the others and bring them there so they can be safe. The moth hummed in understanding and took off, flying back the way they came from.

Tommy then promptly slid back down the wood wall, faceplanted into the pink beanbag he made with his own two hands and cried until his eyes hurt and his throat ached.

\--

The moths, as tommy discovered were fine. When they returned with Clem at the head of the pack, he wiped away his tears and did a headcount. Everyone was there with the exception of a moth named Axphyrix (Axe- fear- icks is how you pronounce it.) who had flown a little further away from Dream to go contact the _rest_ of the flock. The blue fur-ed moth seemed to act as their messenger, Tommy observed.

He had been surrounded as soon as they flew through his window, his antennae shooting up, finally comfortable enough to show all his traits out in the open. That and the bombarding of hundreds of moths asking if he was alright, and what they could do to help.

He had smiled through his tears and given them a hug (Which translated to them crowding his antennae and wings in a makeshift cocoon.). Clem had crawled up his face to the place Dream had slapped him and soothingly nudged his head in apology. Tommy had reassured them along with everyone else that they did everything they could, and that was enough.

Everything was going to be fine, and he knows that he won’t get better from Dream just by being able to run away, but he had a plan. He knew what he was doing (Sort of) and during those days in which he felt the thrill from disobeying Dream’s orders were spent drawing a makeshift list in order to heal from the mental wounds that were drawn.

He went to sleep that night feeling conflicted, but safe. That’s all he needed for now.

\--

Technoblade was the only one to realize that Tommy wasn’t actually gone after Dream had broken the news of Tommy’s “suicide” to the people of L’manburg. He’d been there when Phil had cried out curses to the green blob and when Ghostbur had gone dead silent and refused to give anyone blue for a whole week. (Then, he promptly forgot that Tommy was gone and resumed his normal oblivious routine.) The whole country had been in distraught, and Tubbo had even locked himself in his office for a few days before coming out completely fine. (Techno pretended he didn’t hear the screams of anguish and pain echoing throughout the white house in those days.)

He knew Dream was wrong, and the visit the other had paid him at his house was proof.

“Hey Dream, what’re you doing here?”

“Technoblade. I’m uh- I’m here because well…Tommy’s _missing_ …” He says. Techno raised an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t already figure out that Tommy’s still alive, I might’ve told you ‘Of course Tommy’s missing, he died! You told us yourself!’” The pig animates his impersonation, raising his hands to his face in mock surprise. “But again: I already figured out that bit. Instead, I ask you why the hell are you looking for him? I thought all you wanted was to get him out of the DreamSMP?”

Dream chuckled at Techno’s reaction to his question and shrugs.

“Kid’s fun to play with. But most importantly I have to find where he is, so he doesn’t get any ideas about messing with my stuff. Have you seen him by any chance?” The pig hybrid snorts a little at the absolutely sick grin that stretches across the hunter when he mentions Tommy being fun to play with. Blood gods help him, he can keep the voices calling for murder at bay, but when their intentions match, it’s hard to remember to think rationally.

_[WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, KILL HIM!]_

_[Blood for the blood god.]_

_[Yeah, please tell me this is not the person that was supposed to take care of Tommy during exile, he sounds like a psychopath kinda SUS]_

_[HE HURT TOMMY FIND HIM BEFORE DREAM DOES]_

_[Kill him, kill him, kill him,]_

He knocks on his head twice in an attempt to get them to quiet down and turns to Dream who seemed to be looking around in his house for something. Tommy. That’s who he’s looking for. His little brother. Techno felt an unreasonable amount of anger and possessiveness surge over him. Piglins were possessive of their family members after all.

“I haven’t. Actually, I’ve been trying to figure out where you hid him but guessing from your predicament, I assume you’re lost as well,” He growls. The voices were supplying him visual depictions of what Dream could’ve done to Tommy while in exile.

Sure, he’s been trying to bypass the green man’s strict hold on Tommy’s visitor policy (They all have been actually. He’d witnessed Tubbo breakdown in front of Dream when being told that ‘No, he could go visit, Tommy was in exile,’) but the sheer amount of sinister rage and promise of punishment in Dream’s smile made his skin prickle.

“Oh, well that’s a shame. I’ll keep looking, let me know if you see him around. You still owe me that favor, Techno,” Dream tips an imaginary hat, and steps off his porch.

“See you around!” And he’s gone, the only trace of his presence, a swirl of purple particles left over from his ender pearl.

Techno needed to find Tommy soon.

\--

Eventually, he did. He had been looking for another village to torment their traders for deals on mending books and then perhaps a trip to the nether for more ender pearls when he noticed a flash of red in the corner of his eye. Navigating his way through the thick trees, he gaped in shock at the immense treehouse he found sitting proudly atop an extremely well-hidden tree.

It was clear someone lived there, based off of the small farm a few meters away. It was settled between a lake and a few chests sat around it. If Techno was being completely honest, he was fairly impressed by the design on the walls. They were beautifully made, and even had added depth with some patterns being carved into the wood rather than simply being on one singular plane.

He looked for an entrance and muttered a curse under his breath when he saw ladders sitting in calculated distances from each other. Whoever built the treehouse was a pain in the ass. They wanted him to do ladder parkour to enter? Seriously?? Well, he’ll do it but he’s certainly not happy about it.

Panting quietly as he pulled himself up the last ladder and blinked when he saw a sign sitting snugly on top of what looked like one of the most beautiful doors he’s ever seen.

“THE MOTH NEST. NO BITCHES ALLOWED, FUCK YOU!”

That was 100% a Tommy sign. Tommy lived here. Tommy lived in one of the most intricate and beautiful buildings Techno’s ever seen. The voices were going insane, and Techno was very easily following suit.

_[HOLY SHIT GUYS IT’S TOMMY, HE’S ALIVE!]_

_[E]_

_[WHAT THE HELL DOES ‘MOTH NEST’ MEAN???]_

_[Go inside, dumbass,]_

_[E]_

_[E]_

_[HELP THE TRAUMATIZED CHILD GO INSIDE!!]_

_[E]_

With almost shaking hands, Techno took a deep breath, and knocked on the side of the door. Instantly, there was a crash along with a screech of pain. There were also a lot of flapping and humming noises as if millions of hummingbirds lived inside with him. Then there was silence. A pensive, terrifying silence. Techno could smell the fear that range in the air, and he opened his mouth to say something, to reassure the other of his identity. Who knows what Dream did to him.

He was interrupted by three… moths? Flapping in his face. One was blue, and the other two were pure white. They stared at him and he stared back at them. What’s they’re problem? Weren’t moths supposed to come out at daytime? Why were they here now? He’s supposed to go see Tommy, not gawk at some knock off butterflies.

He waves them away with his hand and knocked on the door again. The moths left him alone, and after a few minutes Techno’s patience was running thin when he still heard nothing. He strained his ears. There was no way Tommy would be _this_ quiet-

“What do you mean a pig? Pigs can’t climb ladders or knock on doors, Ax,” He hears Tommy whisper urgently. Who the fuck was Ax?

“Are you _sure_ it’s not Dream? I- I mean listen I know he’s my friend- he- he- wait he’d not my friend, shit- Are you sure it’s not him?” What the fuck was happening? Who saw him by the fucking door? Who the hell was Tommy talking to?

“Clem- fine. I’ll answer the door and if my head gets chopped off, then you have to figure out how to bury me by my bench, bitch. All of you are the worst,” And then Techno could hear wood creaking and he stepped back to see the door being pulled open completely.

Tommy had never been more conflicted in his entire life (The exception being how he felt about Dream.). When he got up to open the door, he hadn’t bothered to hide his wings, or antennae.

Clem was perched on his head along with six of seven other moths who felt awake enough to accompany him to his farm earlier. Axsphyrix the messenger sat on his ear as always, ready to fly off to relay information between the part of the flock that stays with Tommy and the rest. The two twin white moths Renmir and Milk were sitting on his shirt along with a hoard of others that would take too much time to name outloud individually (Although if Tommy was asked, he’d do it without hesitation,), and the rest of his clothes were covered by various clumps of moths that complained about now having any resting space and choosing to claim Tommy’s wings and coat as an excuse.

So in conclusion, Tommy looked like a fluffy moth overlord that had been spending his days figuring out how to cast love spells on the blasted insects.

“Can I help you, Technoblade?” He asked when he saw the anarchist pig standing in front of him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What the fuck are you doing, and why do you have so many moths on you?” Techno asked him back. Seriously, what the hell was his little brother covered in them? It was such a random thing-

“Us moths have to stick together, how did you find our treehouse?”

“I found it when I was looking for a village. You hid it pretty well,” Tommy’s antennae twitched at the compliment, and Clem crawled their way to the front of Tommy’s head to stare at Techno accusingly. Their wings were raised, a warning to stay away from their guardian. After running away from Dream, all the moths including Clem became intensely protective of Tommy. There was always at least three of them traveling with the boy, just in case.

“Why is your moth staring at me?”

“They’re trying to protect me, bitch. Clem, Techno’s fine…I think. I don’t think he’ll hurt me,” Techno doesn’t miss the way Tommy’s hand starts to tremble when reaching up to give the moth (Clem was its name?) a pathway to his finger.

“Listen, I’m not really invested in your whole ‘escaping Dream’ situation-“ Techno begins. It’s a lie, the voices are screaming at him to _protect_ him. (They are also crying and ‘aweing’ at Tommy’s open display of affection with the moths, many saying _[MOTHINNIT]_ )

“But, if you’re planning to sit here, you going to need some help when Dream storms around here trying to find you,” The color drains from Tommy’s face when Techno mentions him. He almost reaches out to touch the other when his hand instinctively rushes to cover his cheek, which now that he looks closer, one of his cheeks were a little bluer then than the other, what the fuck?

Clem the moth flies off of Tommy’s finger and nudges away his hand with their head, choosing to settle across the spot his palm was covering with their wings and during their switch, Techno definitely spots the bruise.

_[He hurt Tommy. Kill him. Find Dream and kill him, do it, do it doit-]_

_[WHAT THE HELL HE HURT HIM WHAT THE FUCK]_

_[Blood for the Blood God]_

_[E]_

_[Dream started the job, you should finish it-]_

_[MAKE THE GREEN BITCH PAY]_

_[Protect him]_

_[Protect Tommy]_

_[HE HURT FAMILY, KILL THE GREEN BASTARD!]_

“D-Dream’s looking for me?” Tommy’s voice was so incredibly quiet, Techno almost couldn’t hear him. The moths around him were stirring, each raising their wigs slightly at the wave of panic emanating from their guardian.

“Yeah, he dropped by my house about a week or two ago asking if I’ve seen you-” Tommy’s eyes lit up with fear, and his wings (which Techno didn’t even notice until then-) were fluttering nervously.

“You- you won’t tell him I’m here, right? Please don’t- please don’t tell him. Oh, Dream’s going to be so mad- fuck, please don’t tell him- I’ll give you anything you want, please don’t send me back-” The smaller backed away, hunched over, wings curling protectively around him. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes and Techno’s never seen Tommy act like this ever. It was alarming, especially considering the begs and pleads coming from his mouth.

“Tommy, Tommy I’m not telling anyone where you are, trust me. I had a suspicion Dream was fucking mistreating you, I’m not going to do anything. I promise,” He speaks slowly, lowering himself to Tommy’s level. The moths around them were agitated, forming a protective barrier between the boy and him. Angry moths couldn’t do much, but the action still sent Techno into a bewildered haze.

‘The kid’s got a fucking army, Jesus’ he thought as he extended an arm to act as a sign of peace. The moths immediately swarmed it, and he cringed. He hated insects but he made an effort to not slap any of them away. Just for Tommy.

“Listen kid, I’m struggling not to go find him right now and skewer him where he stands. I swear on Phil’s life, I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you. Let me help, even if it’s not directly,” Tommy seemed to be stuck in some sort of trance where he wasn’t exactly responding to anything. Not even the blue moth who was nipping at his antennae in an attempt to gain a response.

The red and white moth- Clem, Techno remembers- flies through the cloud of others, and hovers in front of Techno’s face. The pig hybrid almost kicks himself for doing it (talking to a fucking moth? What was he, some sort of delusional idiot?) but he gathers his dignity and meets their gaze.

“Let me talk to him. I promise I won’t let anything hurt him,” He thinks he’s an absolute dumbass for trying to talk to an insect when Clem doesn’t move from their spot in the air, but then they land on his sleeve and beat their wings together to produce a piercing hum that is surprisingly loud enough to get Tommy’s head to jerk up.

They fly back to Tommy’s cheek where he was wiping away his tears, and slowly, the rest of the moths forming the barrier split off, each taking their place either next to or on Tommy himself.

“Ax and Clem are saying you said you’re not going to hurt me,” He croaks out.

“I won’t,” Techno says, and Tommy’s face contorts to relief and then caution, and then just pure helplessness. Tears were pouring down his face again, and Clem moved to perch on his nose so as to not slip off him.

“I- I’m sorry big man, I just- I- Dream isn’t- he- I don’t really- FUCK!” He yells and then laughs, “Sorry, I don’t talk well when I remember,” Techno doesn’t ask what’s to remember. He lets himself sit back on his haunches and observe as Tommy whispers to the moths, thanking them and apologizing for making them scared.

The blue one, probably the one named ‘Ax’ flies away from is antennae and back to his ear, nuzzling it softly and Techno marvels when Tommy starts to laugh softly, batting at the moth playfully.

“Axsphyrix stop it, I just broke down dickhead I can’t- can’t laugh right now. Techno’s here too, have- have some manners, bitch,” Axsphyrix reluctantly settles on the edge of Tommy’s ear like he was when Techno first entered the house, and Tommy took a deep breath before facing him.

“Sorry that you had to see me like that, big man. I d-do that when Dream gets brought up. I try to avoid it, but- but I just can’t help myself sometimes. These guys help me- me calm down,” He gestures the moths sitting on him.

“You said- said you’d help me?” Techno nods slightly, hand reaching into his inventory to pull out a few things he was going to use to fight endermen in the nether after going to a village. Tommy clearly needed them more, so he didn’t mind… too much.

Said teen’s eyes widened when he sees the stack of golden apples Techno usually keeps in the corner of his inventory for emergencies and two speed potions being set in the space in between them. Still trembling slightly he reaches for them, but Renmir, Milk and Clem all shot out and dragged the condensed items to him.

Techno watched him look over every item with a sort of wonder, and he vaguely wondered if Tommy’s never accepted a gift before. Then, he decides he doesn’t want answer that question because knowing Dream, he probably gave Tommy some fucked up gift instead of a real one.

“T-thank you,” He mutters in what sounds like disbelief.

“A-and I can keep these? Like- like use them ‘n shit?” Techno looks at him incredulously.

  
“What else are you gonna do? Place them around your treehouse like trophies?” He wasn’t expecting for Tommy to shake his head and say as if it was completely normal, “No d-dumbass. You’re supposed to give them to- to me and then burn them later,”

Techno was going to kill Dream so fucking hard.

Techno assures Tommy that he’s not going to do that and after tommy relaxes, they talk for a while. Tommy explains some of the key things that happened with Dream (Which just fueled Techno’s bloodlust even more.) and Techno in turn told him some of the things that went on in L’manburg, and the DreamSMP while he was gone.

“Listen, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to move from this place, so I’ll come visit every week or so and we can talk right? You seem pretty comfortable with all your…moths,” Tommy grins, and reaches up to pet Clem to was humming softly around his antennae.

“Clem’s my-my support insect. They know how to deal with e-episodes when they hit so I don’t lose or hurt my- myself. The rest of them are part of their flock-group-thing and grew- grew attached to me. Sorry for the stuttering by- by the way. It goes away after a while, I just need to stable- stabilize myself,” How traumatized can one kid get? Techno brushes off the apology.

“You’re fine, Tommy. Just- be safe. I swear I won’t let Dream anywhere around you, what with all the fucking damage he’s done to you,” The other opens his mouth, with the intention to protest and justify Dream’s actions but stops himself. He needs to get better at acknowledging what Dream did to him.

  
“Yeah, thanks- thanks Techno…does dad stay with you? Tell him hi for me-me,” The realization of having to break to Philza, Tubbo, and Ranboo that Tommy was in fact alive crashed onto Techno a little more suddenly then he would’ve liked.

“I’ll tell him. Am I allowed to tell Phil where you are? Or do you want to wait?”

“Wait. Definitely wait, I need to gather myself a-a little,” Tommy laughs nervously at the end.

“Okay,” Techno agrees, and rises to give Tommy a hug. His heart breaks a little when he sees Tommy flinch instinctively before getting up (The moths resting on him, fluttering off and pensively hovering around them) and letting himself fall in the waiting arms.

“I’m so tired, Techno. Thank you though, it helps that you found me,” Tommy murmurs. Then, “Clem and the others want you to give your word to protect me, but you don’t have to-“

“I swear on my life I’ll protect Tommy until my last breath, from anyone and anything,” Techno interrupts, looking straight into Clem’s black eyes. The moth perched on Tommy’s hair hummed and placed a single leg on Techno’s nose.

Techno hated insects, but he’ll make an exception.

Just for Tommy.

Just for his little brother.

\--


End file.
